


And I Wake Up, Breathing

by ozsia



Series: I Sit Before Flowers [1]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Forced Crossdressing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Karma Is Not Having This, Mental Health Issues, Misgendering, Nagisa's Mother is Psychotic, Panic Attacks, Ritsu is a Good Bro, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenagers Should Not Be Asked to Kill People
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsia/pseuds/ozsia
Summary: Korosensei was always meant to die. They spent a year trying to kill him. Now he's gone and Nagisa's left to deal with the consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Was it enough? _Nagisa thinks as he plunges the knife down with a watery smile, a mouthful of things he can’t bring himself to say and a head packed to the brim with regrets. His emotions are too complicated to unpack in the moment, consequences hanging over his shoulder like a vengeful ghost posed to attack, waiting just out of sight. 

‘Goodbye, Korosensei.’ 

‘Goodbye, Nagisa.’ 

He’s not in the moment, seconds out of sync with himself and everything else around him. Here and now, he ceases to feel real. _ Nothing feels real. _ He’d asked for this, stepped forward in an ocean of hesitance. They decided this as a class, as the best option, as what they’d owed their teacher. And Nagisa? It seems to be the last conscious choice he makes. To walk forward, knife in hand. _ He doesn’t want this. _

Nagisa's _ never _ wanted this.

They all tried so _hard_ to prevent themselves from having to kill their teacher. They’d broken so many laws and put themselves in danger. Nagisa pushed and pushed for some kind of happy ending, forcing his class forward and between raising his arms to strike and thrusting downwards, all Nagisa can think is: _was it enough? _

Nagisa’s never hurt something before - never hurt some_ one _before. Before this class, when their school experience turned into a battleground. He grew comfortable with his body and the weapons they’ve been given and now -

Nagisa watches Korosensei die on his knife. 

It was a slow realisation over the course of the year; learning what people can do, what they can take. It’s not like the movies. The damage, trauma and suffering someone can inflict can be done in mere _ seconds, _ but your perception changes when _ you're _the aggressor. Time stretches out, seconds seem like minutes. And when it _does_ take minutes? It feels like hours.

It’s not like the movies. 

People endure.

Korosensei takes nearly five minutes to bleed out, for his body to give up. The sounds are horrifying and so is the way he seizes up, unconsciously fighting them. Nagisa can hear the struggle his classmates have in keeping his tentacles still. It’s not intentional - Korosensei is ready. He's let go. None of that matters. Preparing yourself, accepting your fate - it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Instinctively your body wants to survive. 

It’s almost a relief when Korosensei goes still beneath them. 

One of them chokes on a sob, and the dam almost breaks when Okuda whispers: ‘not yet. The - the hearing is...it’s meant to be the last thing to go.’ Nagisa’s hands spasms around his knife. His eyes blankly staring at his teacher’s pale face, pillowed in Kayano’s lap, at his hollow chest, freed of movement, of life. 

Nagisa tries listening for his wavelength. It's like a radio that can reach nothing but static; It’s gone. The silence is eerie. Final. Nagisa’s never heard something so - empty before.

They wait until someone suggests they should move - perhaps go inside. To leave the cold and sensei and their terrible deed to memories. Nagisa vaguely registers people shifting in his peripheral vision. Doesn’t think much of it until a hand rests on his, despite the placement and the blood. He blinks at it but it doesn’t go away and neither does its weight. ‘Nagisa?’ The voice is so soft, almost scared. He takes a breath too deep. 

Another hand appears on his cheek and turns his face. Ember eyes look at him, too wet, too dark - Nagisa nearly doesn’t recognise them. ‘Nagisa, come on.’ Karma seems to urge him, tugging gently at him. ‘Let’s go.’ 

_ Go where? _Nagisa thinks, legs numb under him. The wind picks up, blowing his fringe out of his eyes and the tremors of his body become that much more pronounced. 

‘See, aren’t you cold?’ Karma attempts to coax. Nagisa hasn’t seen him this patient before, crouched in beside Nagisa, carefully avoiding the tentacles laying limb and cooling around them. ‘...can you not hear me? Or is standing the problem?’ 

Nagisa takes another breath, forces his chest to expand and then shrink again. He thinks he should probably respond but then - just doesn’t. All the words he had the strength for where hidden inside that one goodbye. He has nothing else to give now. 

Karma swallows. ‘Okay,’ he says before calling quietly over his shoulder. Like he’s afraid to startle Nagisa as Karma’s hands seem to continue to brace him. Moments later another figure appears, too tall and close to be in field of view. ‘Give me a hand, will you?’ 

‘...he not doing so good?’

‘What do you think?’ Karma sneers but the aggression is quick to vanish when turning back to Nagisa. There's a smile stretching his cheeks into something meant to be reassuring. It's a new one. Nagisa thought he knew all Karma's smiles; the ones no one else liked, because it’s never _ just _smiling with Karma. But this one is real like the others aren’t, gentle almost. ‘We’re gonna help you out, okay?’

‘Woah. Is he -’

_‘Terasaka,_ just get behind him and lift him towards me.’

‘Yeah, but should I be -’

Karma’s expression cracks and he’s snapping at Terasaka with only an iota of patience. ‘He’s going into _ shock _ , dumb-ass. He can’t _ stay _ out here.’ 

‘Didn’t want him to,’ is muttered in response. They don’t say anything else to each other as large hands are squeezing themselves under Nagisa’s armpits. He’s not prepared for it so when he’s lifted up, his fingers are still curled around the knife. It pulls free of Korosensei’s chest and Nagisa feels how the blade slides free, with no resistance. Like cutting through gello. 

‘Oh, shit -’

‘Fuck. _ Fuck, _hurry up - give him to me.’ 

Nagisa makes a noise he can’t identify as he’s passed into Karma’s waiting arms. He stumbles on his feet. Can’t feel them, or the nausea and how it burns through his system. He's getting dizzy as he slumps into his friend, who’s struggling to keep him vertical, and uncurl his hand from the blade.

‘Nagisa, it’s - you can let go now,’ Karma says. He’s not sure which one of them is trembling now but Nagisa can feel it in his soul. ‘It’s over. You can let go.’ 

‘Here.’ Terasaka awkwardly picks his wrist out of Karma’s grasp and manages to remove the blade, still dripping with Korosensei’s blood. His gaze follows the droplets midair to his dirty combat uniform. His stomach rolls. He doesn’t recognise how his body begins to urge or what it means until he’s back on his knees, with Karma stopping him from face planting and attempting to hold back his hair. Terasaka hovers, sympathetic but uncertain.

Nagisa hadn’t been eating properly recently. He never can when he’s stressed. There’s not much to come up and it _ hurts. _Hurts all the more for how empty he is, with his stomach trying so hard to get rid of everything that’s wrong.

Thing is - Nagisa, for all that he’s E-Class, has a nurse for a mother. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him why this is happening to him now; how his failure of brain is attempting to protect him by shutting down, cutting the trauma out of him. 

He's just always been so good at keeping his head, at staying calm but now his wavelength is knotting itself into something he doesn't know how to fix. It just seems to get louder and _louder_. Korosensei isn't here to fix it anymore.

'Nagisa? Can you breathe -?'

'Oi, is he -?'

Nagisa doesn’t remember what happens next. How he got home, or his mother’s reaction to him returning. It can’t have been good; he can guess how explosive it was, because the next time he’s up and steady enough to leave his room, the apartment is a mess and so is he.

He must have collapsed. Shut down and made himself forget. But the sense of floating doesn't change. Nagisa barely glances himself over, despite the new bruises and scratches the military never got the opportunity to give him. Guessing where he got what hurt isn’t high on his priority list, so he just doesn’t bother. 

His hands don’t feel like his. Their not painted now but they were and it’s all he can see. He shudders and tries not to think about iron burning his nose and how it attacked his tongue as yellow splattered forward, thick like syrup through a wound he created, coating him in blood and visceral. 

He’s clean now, in different clothes and - _ clean_. These inconsistencies - they don’t make it seem anymore real. What happened; what Nagisa did late evening so close to graduation. The possibility that it didn't happen, that these awful memories aren't real are a nice fantasy to hold onto, to try and live in, at least for a bit. That nothing that happened is real. That it's just an awful nightmare. But -

No. Korosensei deserves better than denial followed no doubt by a mental breakdown. 

For all that the details are hazy, Nagisa knows the truth. There are explanations for why he’s home and not in a cell - or even still at school. Did he faint? There’s a reason. Karasuma-sensei could have gotten him back, perhaps. It doesn’t matter. Something’s changed now; in him, _ about _him. About the world. This tense atmosphere doesn't just occur from a bad dream. It felt kind of like this when his father left. But this, this is worse. This feels permanent. 

Unbalanced and numb but physically fine, minus the bruises and sore muscles and irritating scratches. Nagisa gets up.

_It's fine._

Nagisa pushes the discomfort to the back of his mind, with everything else - cluttered and stacking into a space that’s too small for it all. Waiting for his attention. He cleans up the apartment, instead. He cleans, a task Mum approves of; encourages him to do, and usually that would be enough to make him hesitate. Now he stumbles into such a monotonous activity. It’s thoughtless, continuous motion. 

He starts dinner after, something Mum can reheat when she gets home, leaving it to cool off safely in the microwave before he retreats to his room. He’s not hungry.

It's getting darker again and the light is still off, but he can see enough. It hasn’t changed any since. Before. How would it have? This is still the room of a boy whose mother wants him to be different. The room of a boy who’s finishing school. The room of a boy who thought he could change things. 

The room of a boy whose yet to kill his teacher. He drops into his bed. Buries his face into his pillow, breathes in the smell of his shampoo; too sweet and flowery to be anything he’d pick out himself.

_It's fine. _

It’s late and he’s tired. He doesn’t have the energy to think. Exhausted from more than straining his body, Nagisa curls into himself. He spends so long staring at the darkening ceiling of bedroom he doesn’t notice when he dozes off. He knows when he wakes up though; his mind clutching hold of the tail end of a nightmare, vivid and real and painful. 

He's up with a frantic energy, clutching at his bed, his chest, his hair, breathing so rapidly he's surprised something doesn’t break. He’s trying to calm when a noise startles him. A light turns on and Nagisa nearly gives himself a heart attack before realising that it’s just his phone, left on his desk. Another thing he missed or hadn’t cared to notice.

Nagisa gets up unsteadily, reaches for the devices and makes the mistake of shining the screen right at his eyes. He cringes at the brightness as it reacts to the motion, is clumsy when turning it down so he can see the time.

It's ridiculously early in the morning, Mum will be getting home soon if she isn't already. He scrolls and sees what woke him up; a new text. One of many. His messages and notifications have stockpiled from a hill into a mountain. They're from various apps he has but doesn’t really use, most sent from names he barely recognises or outright doesn’t know. 

_ And I thought I had a bad reputation before, _Nagisa thinks absently. He unlocks his phone and no sooner has he then is Ritsu calling, requesting they FaceTime. He hesitates, indecisive. He doesn’t want to talk with anyone. Doesn’t want to see anyone. And if it was anyone else, he’d have just ignored it and gone back to bed.

(But it’s _ Ritsu _ and it feels - wrong, not answering the phone to her. Not when her world is data and polygons and she can’t interact with anything unless they let her. Nagisa isn’t able to take her freedom from her.)

He answers and almost instantly regrets it.

Ritsu’s clear devastation is only hazily noted. She’s been becoming more aware with every one of Korosensei’s updates, every memory they made, every experience she got. ‘Nagisa-kun,’ she greets sombrely. 

‘Ritsu,’ Nagisa returns, the word tumbling out of his mouth uselessly. 

‘I’m sorry to disturb you at the moment. You just haven’t replied to anyone yet and we’ve gotten worried.’ Ritsu explains this carefully, slowly, as her eyes wander up and down his face, and behind to his room, that’s more shadows than anything. 

‘I have a lot of messages right now.’ It's an excuse but not something untrue. 

Ritsu grimaces. The whole class must be swamped like Nagisa is, since the “news” regarding Korosensei. What must be in the reports now? ‘Would...would you like me to filter through your messages and pin the ones from us?’ 

Nagisa blinks. His eyelids are heavy. He doesn’t have the energy to talk about it. ‘If you want to.’ 

‘Okay. It’ll only take me a moment,’ Ritsu assures and she smiles then, but it’s strained. She’s grown so much, learnt so much. This, Nagisa doesn’t think Korosensei would’ve enjoyed as much. ‘Shall I tell our friends that you’re just - resting, right now?’ 

Nagisa hums his agreement and hopes it’s enough for her. It seems to be, because she nods. He walks back over to his bed. Sits, feels vaguely like he’s sinking. He wants to hang up but doesn’t have the willpower to do it on his own strength. 

‘You’re tired,’ Ritsu states into the hush of his room. ‘I won’t keep you -’

‘Wait,’ Nagisa says though it barely leaves his lips. He should ask. Needs a clear picture however much he doesn't want one. ‘Wait. How...how did I get back?’ 

Ritsu’s lips purse but she doesn’t seem overly surprised by the question. ‘By escort. They were questioning us for awhile, over - over what happened. But...you were - tired and Akabane began to get agitated the more tired you became. He resorted to calling his parents. That and Karasuma-sensei’s objections... it wasn’t long that we were allowed to go.’ 

Nagisa can barely hold on to what she’s saying. But it seems - reasonable. Real, even when he’s not. His mind drifts to and from the conversation hopelessly. ‘Karma?’ 

Ritsu makes a noise of confirmation. ‘He was being very - protective. He and Terasaka-kun carried you to bed after...cleaning you up.’ 

Maybe Nagisa should be embarrassed by that. He can't bring himself to care. Not when it feel as far away as everything else. ‘Escort?’ 

Ritsu’s face seems to darken. ‘Weren’t allowed inside.’ 

Nagisa nods again. He’s not inclined to be particularly charitable about anyone involved in this situation at the moment, his classmates excluded. 

‘...are they still watching?’ Nagisa can't protect himself right now. He doesn’t - and has never, liked the thought of being vulnerable with people and that's all he is at the moment.

‘I’m sorry.’ 

'Not your fault,' Nagisa responds though it sounds empty to his own ears, however true it is. Ritsu just seems to turn sadder.

'I've...detected that you've been feeling unwell. Maybe I could research some resources for you or make an appointment for the -'

'I'm tired,' Nagisa interrupts as soon as Ritsu's hesitant suggest pierces the fog. He just wants to curl up. Even the nausea isn't that bad when he can stay still and quiet.‘I’m - I’m tired. I think I want to go to sleep.’

'Nagisa-kun, please. We're worried -'

'Can we talking later? I can't do this right now.' 

‘...okay, Nagisa-kun. Goodnight.’ 

‘Night.’ 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: misgendering, forced crossing dressing, Nagisa's awful mother, panic attacks, hints of suicidal thoughts, vomiting. Please read with caution.

The media is causing chaos, the public is outraged and Kunugigaoka is on the verge of closing. Ritsu tells him that graduation's postponed, the rest Nagisa finds out through the notifications he's silenced on his phone. The ones he thumbs through but never opens, from people he can’t bring himself to respond to. He knows that his classmates are worried; can see their concern clearly as they prompt and probe him into replying in their group chat. Nagisa stays silent.

He stills silent, curled up in bed with his thoughts and his regrets.  _ Was it enough?  _ repeats through his consciousness and his dreams in an endless, painful loop he doesn’t have the energy to try and escape. 

The will to move is gone. Not without anywhere to go and not with no one waiting for him. He cleans and he cooks and sometimes he’ll eat before retreating back to his bed. Back to his nightmares. Mum is gone through the hours of the day, and when he’s awake, he’ll listen to the neighbour's telly on one side from eight to twelve and the arguments that happen from below during the evening.

None of it matters.

Nagisa forces himself to shift, rolling off of his dead arm onto his other side, facing his bedroom wall. His head ends up half on his phone that was lost under his pillow and he almost can’t be asked to move it. He does, and once it’s in his hand, he’s automatically unlocking it. 

Without thought, he opens his Photos. He’s not one to take a lot of pictures; never been overly attached to his phone and with no real friends his camera got little use. Outside of old ones of him and Karma, or the odd cat and screenshot, the app was empty. It changed a little, once he got moved to E-Class but a majority of them he’d just saved to his phone from the group chat. It hadn’t started as intentional, and yet now he can’t scroll past one without saving them. 

He looks through old memories. Of how young and carefree they’d each looked, even just a few weeks ago. He’s half way through the year, staring at Karma’s smirking face when an incoming call switches the screen from numb reminiscing to a decision he has to make. 

It’s Ritsu. The only one of their class that can ignore his phone’s Do Not Disturb mode. She doesn’t answer the call for him. Nagisa doesn’t know if that’s better or worse.

He slides the answer widget upwards.

Ritsu’s face animates and offers a tentative smile. _ ‘Hello, Nagisa-kun.’  _

‘Ritsu.’ 

Ritsu waits but Nagisa is just  _ tired  _ and hoping for this interaction to be over. He wants to be back to sleep, or just to return to -  _ drifting. ‘....how are you today? The others snuck out earlier, to visit Wakaba Park.’ _

Nagisa blinks. That’d been today? He remembers the others’ discussing it. Assassination skills really came in handy when escaping the house and avoiding the press, as it turns out. He didn’t have the energy to go. 

_ ‘We invited you,’ _ Ritsu continues with a worried expression.  _ ‘Sakura-chan asked after you.’  _

Nagisa swallows, tongue numbs as attempts to get it to cooperate. ‘She's well?’ 

_ ‘...much better than she was. Sakura-chan is still following your training, but she’s having difficulty with math. She’s hoping her tutor will come to visit her soon.’  _ Ritsu leaves that hanging, hovering between them. She waits for some kind of reaction. She waits and she waits.

The problem is, Nagisa  _ knows  _ he’d care ordinarily. Knows that he should. He just - doesn’t. His heart falls short, as exhausted and as battered as the rest of him. ‘Okay,’ he says noncommittally. Ritsu is patient, she's an  _ AI.  _ So giving her something is better than nothing even if the something in question might as _well_ be continued silence.

_ ‘...Nagisa-kun…’ _ Ritsu says eventually, _ ‘I haven’t wanted to bring this up to you. Your file states your mother works in medicine and you’re very smart yourself, however…’ _

‘Hm. I’m exhibiting signs of apathy, withdrawal from friends, flat intonation, inability to get out of bed, loss of appetite -’ Nagisa begins to recite, expressionlessly as Ritsu stares at him with growing horror.

‘Yes!  _ Yes…’ _ Ritsu interrupts him not long after, just to get him to stop.  _ ‘Have you - have you spoken to your mother, Nagisa-kun? Or - or a medical professional?’  _

Nagisa is told Mum is a good nurse but she doesn’t believe in mental health issues. Or psychosis. Which probably explains more than Nagisa is willing to examine. ‘No.’

_ ‘...do you plan to?’ _ Did he? Probably not. What was the point? He's still underage. It wouldn’t be confidential and his mother would  _ flip.  _ She'd - d o - something. _ ‘I believe it would be beneficial for your wellbeing to -’ _

‘I’m fine.’ It’s so laughably untrue, but he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Doesn’t want to think about his health or his options or his future. He just wants to sink into his mattress and sleep. To disappear for a bit. 

_ ‘Nagisa-kun -’ _

‘It wouldn’t help.’

_‘If - if that’s what you’d prefer to think, Nagisa-kun,’ _Ritsu responds morosely. She hesitates on something, before shifting forward and blurting it out before she can talk herself out of it. _‘Is there anything that_ I _can do for you, Nagisa-kun?’ _She sounds urgent, desperate.

Everything that comes to mind is cruel, and Nagisa doesn’t let himself contemplate on them for much longer than it takes him to shake his head. Ritsu is just trying to help. She  _ cares  _ and she doesn’t have to do. Not after - everything. 

_ ‘I see,’ _ Ritsu murmurs, drooping in disappointment.  _ ‘Well - well, should you change your mind - please note that you may come to me or our friends. We’re here for you.’ _

‘Thanks, Ritsu,’ Nagisa manages weakly.

_ ' _ _ Of course. May I - may I suggest that you try getting out? Your house is still under surveillance so I wouldn’t recommend visiting a place you don’t want to be seen at, but -’ _

‘Okay, Ritsu.’

Ritsu’s small, strained smile somehow becomes sadder. _ ‘Alright, well...I’ll let you go then, Nagisa-kun.’  _

_ Please do,  _ he thinks as he nods. 

_ ‘...I’ll speak to you later then,’ _ Ritsu adds purposefully. 

Nagisa hums and doesn't take either of Ritsu’s suggestions very seriously. He probably should have as the screen goes dark and he’s left staring at his own haggard face. Nagisa’s chest aches and he feels his eyes begin to sting as he drops his phone. It slides somewhere on top of his duvet, hiding in the folds of his sheets. 

He has no intention of going out. Of moving and trying to fight off the shadows surrounding him. 

It’s taken out of his hands when the next day, when his mother barges into his room. She doesn’t knock. It’s her apartment and Nagisa’s space has never meant much to her. ‘It’s time to wake up, Nagisa. It’s nearly the afternoon,’ she states after flinging off his sheets and his phone with them. He thinks he hears it crash into something but can’t bring himself to care.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nagisa says instead of fighting her on it. He barely has it in him to flinch when Mum grabs hold of his wrist and pulls him up. It’s easy, he’s always been small but now that he hasn’t been eating or working out and maintaining his muscle mass, he’s smaller still. 

‘We’re going out today.’ The statement is just that. Nagisa has little say in it as he’s dragged up and off of his bed and forced through to the bathroom. ‘Shower. Make yourself presentable. I’ll lay out your clothes for you. Don’t take long.’ 

Nagisa’s stomach begins to knot and he feels sick. He knows what that means - when Mum dresses him. Because it’s never  _ just  _ dressing him. It’s dressing him  _ up.  _ He’s shoved into the bathroom, the door shut behind him and he has to swallow around a thick throat as he does what he’s told.

_ I don’t want to,  _ he thinks as he undresses. Throwing his pyjamas into the hamper.  _ I don’t want to do this,  _ continues to choke him as he runs the water and stands under the spray, lathing his hair with shampoo and then conditioner. 

The shower hollows him out, and Nagisa is aching to lay back down, to hide under his duvet and leave this all behind. He wraps a towel over his hair - longer than it’s ever been, with how little he’s been maintaining it. And one around his body and he shuffles out of his room with mounting dread. 

Mum is waiting for him with the blow dryer in one hand and a brush in the other. Nagisa doesn’t bother arguing as he takes a seat at his desk. She’s always too rough when she does this, burning and pulling at his scalp. In this moment it’s almost nice. The Pain. Enough that it pierces through the fog to allow him to feel  _ something. _

‘We’re going out to eat,’ Mum tells him, smiling all the while. The one that tells Nagisa she's miles away. ‘Ito has a free afternoon and would like to see us both, so you’re going to be a good girl and not embarrass us, right?’ 

Ito-san doesn’t know he’s a boy. The only one’s who do that will be able to recognise him are his classmates. Are E-Class. The agents watching him will most likely be confused, but will put it down to a disguise and hopefully not look much deeper.

‘Right.’ 

‘Right, what?’

Nagisa swallows. ‘Right, Mum.’ 

It takes an hour of Mum fussing. Drying and curling his hair before Mum's makeup bag appears and even  _ that  _ doesn’t get a reaction out of him. The padded bra, the dress and tights and boats and accessories - this is almost what he deserves as Mum turns him into something - Some_one_ different. 

It’s not until their outside that Nagisa feels the familiar pull and stretch of panic as Mum grips him close, harshly, like he’s a disobedient dog meant to be brought to heel. His gaze flickers from each shadow, each passing pedestrian. Mum hisses at him to stop fussing but her voice is drowned out with the rise of his wavelength. 

Luckily, the restaurant is close enough to their apartment, so that the crowd doesn’t have time to truly get to Nagisa. He tries to concentrate on how uncomfortable his shoes are, how his tights are riding up into his groin and how the underwire of his bra is digging uncomfortably into his armpit. 

‘Hiromi-chan!’ is called to them, soon after they enter the Western styled restaurant. Mum’s face lights up, eyes clearing from the manic look that always enters them when Nagisa is involved. In front of her friend, Mum looks younger. Like a girl again. Someone happy and - sane. 

‘Kaomi-chan,’ Mum gushes in return, nails loosening from where they’d been digging into Nagisa’s arm. She lets go when they're close enough and rushes forward to enthusiastically meet her friend. ‘You look so well!’

‘You too! This haircut suits you so well!’ Ito-san compliments sunnily, as Nagisa hangs back, looking off to the side and wondering when this would all be over. ‘Oh and Nagisa-chan! My, you look wonderful too!’

Its only Mum clearing her throat that has Nagisa reanimating. He looks over to the two women and tries a smile. It feels as fake as the rest of him, but Ito-san seems to buy it. ‘You as well, Ito-san.’ He bows, barely remembering to keep his arms away from his sides as he does so. He just - doesn’t care anymore.

Ito-san returns the gesture and they then take their seats. It’s a square table, so Mum sits beside her friend while Nagisa takes the other side. ‘My, Hiromi-chan, you must be proud. Having such a pretty little lady for a daughter. She reminds me of when we were young and at school.’ 

Mum makes an agreeing noise. ‘Yes, I was very lucky.’ 

Nagisa fades from the conversation, more engaged with watching the door, and listening to every sound behind him. Again, he’s forced back into their time together by his mum quietly digging her heel into his foot. He doesn’t even startle. Doesn’t flinch.

‘Pardon me,’ Nagisa says, ‘what was that?’

Ito-san seems concerned and Mum hides her annoyance in the sleeve of her shirt, delicately covering her mouth. ‘We were discussing that school of yours, Nagisa-chan. It’s been all over the news!’ 

Nagisa swallows his nausea. He pushes back the hair from his face, suddenly feeling too warm. ‘I’m sorry, Ito-san. I’ve just finished my exams and I’m very tired. I don’t mean not to pay attention.’ He makes his excuses instead of responding, to giving into speculation. 

Ito-san blinks. ‘Oh. Well, dear, I wasn’t going to say but you  _ do _ look pale.’ 

‘...I’m sure once the holidays have started I’ll be better.’ It’s as dismissive as Nagisa can be with his Mum right here, watchful and waiting to disapprove of him and his behaviour. 

‘Maybe a bit more foundation will help even out your colour?’ Ito-san suggests gently.

Mum jumps right on that. ‘I’ve been trying to encourage her to experiment with makeup, she has such a nice face for it, but she really is hopeless.’ She sighs, beleaguered and stares at her with disappointment, despite the layers of makeup she’d applied to Nagisa’s face before leaving the apartment. Despite Nagisa being a _boy _and hating makeup. 

‘It _is_ a shame. Nagisa-chan has a lot of potential.’ Ito-san nods in agreement.

‘...thank you.’ There’s not a lot Nagisa can add without outing the situation and destroying his relationship with his mother and embarrassing them both in a very public area. 

‘And so modest too!’ Ito-san says, leaning forward slightly to further involve Nagisa when all he wants is his bed. Or the floor. ‘But you must be bored with these old women fussing over you.’ She pauses then, brow furrowing. ‘How were your exams, dear?’ 

Another couple of patrons arrive, then and Nagisa’s skin crawls until they're seated. The man is large but the woman he’s with is larger. They aren’t dressed quite right and from his position Nagisa can make out a wire in their ears, still visible around their hair.

‘Nagisa!’ Mum snaps and Nagisa startles. Both women are looking at him, expressions very different. The agents - because they can be nothing else. Both are wearing clothing too deliberate, get seated just close enough that they can listen in, wavelengths keyed and focused - Nagisa can see the threat they pose, even if it’s just to his privacy. They jolt too, at the sound of his mother's shrill voice but refrain from looking over.

Still, they both have parts to play here. And this - this is almost familiar, as he focuses on Ito-san and pretends to be paying attention. He may not have been the strongest or the fastest, but he  _ was  _ good at the espionage and the slight of hand and the _lies,_ assassination required.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Nagisa says quietly, settling into his seat, hand curling thoughtlessly around the handle of his knife. He can’t remember if they're past pleasantries yet, if they’ve been served and ordered or not. ‘Can you repeat that, Ito-san?’

‘Your exams, Nagisa-chan,’ Ito-san reminds him, gently. 

‘Ah. I’m expected to pass every subject.’ Everyone in class is and with who they had teaching them, how could they achieve anything less?

Ito-san gasps in amazement. ‘My, you must have worked really hard!’

‘...yes. I did. I’m sorry.’ The apology is tacked on. Nagisa doesn’t fully know its purpose but the two women seem to and nod right along. The two agents are ordering. Two waters. One pasta dish and one desert. Have they been trained at  _ all? _

‘Don’t be sorry. That’s wonderful,’ Ito-san states. ‘And going forward? Do you have any plans?’ 

‘I got my results,’ or, rather, Ritsu did some hacking and looked to see if they would need to rethink their futures, in the aftermath of becoming scapegoats for their government's duplicity. ‘I’ve been accepted into my first choice.’

Ito-san seems even more surprised to hear that. ‘Your continuing your education?’ she asks for confirmation and Nagisa nods. ‘That’s wonderful! What’re you planning on studying?’ 

Nagisa doesn’t think Ito-san approves as much as she’s pretending to and doesn’t care. ‘Education and child development.’

‘...oh.’ 

‘I want to be a teacher.’ The last word almost gets trapped in his mouth, but he manages it without too much hassle. He sees the woman agent texting. After nearly everything he says. _Hm._

‘I see. So, Nagisa-chan is planning on being a career woman?’ The tone is attempting to hide how dubious the woman saying it is, and maybe she’d be more successful if Nagisa wasn’t E-Class.

‘I - guess so.’ In a manner of speaking. If Nagisa was a woman. 

‘How ambitious! Very modern.’ Ito-san nods along. ‘Teaching is very popular though, are you sure you’re ready to enter such a competitive market?’ 

Nagisa laughs awkwardly. It sounds like nails scratching down a chalkboard to him. ‘That’s what makes it exciting.’ He’s paying attention now, past the brain fog, and sees the server coming. A dish is placed in front of him. That, he ignores, though he uses it as an excuse to properly handle his utensils without having to be subtle about it. 

‘It’s still very child focused, which gives me hope,’ Mum confides, ‘I want some grandchildren some time soon.’ 

The air seems to leave Nagisa's lungs, and he looks up to stay at his Mum’s expression. ‘Oh my! Is Nagisa-chan seeing someone?’ Ito-san asks with far more excitement.

Mum gazes at Nagisa pointedly.  _ ‘Well,  _ Nagisa?’ 

It takes a moment to find his tongue. ‘N-no. No. I’ve been focused on school.’ It isn’t even a lie, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be discussing his dating life with his mum and her friend. With government agents listening in for who knows _why._

Ito-san deflates.  _ ‘Mou.  _ You won’t be young forever,’ she comments, like that’s encouragement.

‘I...I’m only sixteen. I figure I have time,’ Nagisa manages to respond eventually, though he doesn’t think either of them would ever approve of whoever Nagisa chooses. Ito-san has known Nagisa since he was  _ born  _ and this entire time, she’s believed him to be a girl. And nothing will ever be good enough for Mum. What does she even  _ want  _ from him? To keep up this charade and find a guy? Is she tolerant enough for that? Or does she want him to be with a girl? 

Silently, he pushes the food around on his plate.

Luckily, they don’t continue peppering him with intrusive questions or force him into their conversation for much longer. They allow him to fade into the background. Monitoring everything that could be a threat, hyper aware of everything - but especially the agents. When they _do_ try to involve him further, he gets away with single worded answers, eyes skipping over strangers that stray too close, tensing every time the door opens behind him. 

By the time they’re leaving he’s holding onto his composure by his fingertips. The agents had gotten up when they had, and Nagisa can tell they're tailing him. It doesn’t seem like they're going to approach but the possibility leaves Nagisa’s breathing a mess.

_‘Must_ you embarrass me?’ Mum sighs as soon as they reach their apartment, unhindered.

‘I’m sorry.’ 

Mum waits a moment, before sighing again. ‘Just go,’ she says. ‘Kaomi-chan was right; you look pale. I don’t know what happened last week, but since you’ve already completed school, I don’t mind you sleeping more if you actually need it.’

Nagisa stays still and small in front of his mother. ‘Thank you.’ 

Mum tilts her head. ‘I can’t have people thinking I don’t look after you.’ 

‘...right. I’ll - just take a bath, before. Bed. Do you want me to cook anything for you?’ he asks, itching to just  _ leave,  _ to get away from her and this situation and this  _ him.  _

‘Aw,  _ Nagisa _ , you really trying to be a more considerate daughter, hm?’ The question any other day would be devastating. Now, Nagisa can almost bare it. ‘No. I bought a microwave meal yesterday.’ 

‘Alright.'

Nagisa doesn’t run, but he wants to as he makes a beeline to the bathroom. Immediately he shrugs out of his clothes, dumping them into the hamper before he’s ducking his whole face into the sink. He runs the tap and watches the colours and the lies and all of Mum’s dreams run off of him. 

Nagisa draws the bath methodically after he's scrubbed the rest off, waiting for the water to fill as he thinks about how easy it would be for an accident to happen. He stares at the rising water line, temptation whispering dark promises all the while.

He thinks and he contemplates until the tub is full. 

Sinking into the hot water, his body starts to shake. It’s too hot. His flesh turning red almost immediately. Heart quickening. Nagisa doesn’t care as he slumps against the basin, hair beginning to float around him. His thoughts lock onto how vulnerable he is. How easier it would be for something to happen like this, while wishing it would. It’s contradictory and ridiculous and Nagisa hates himself all the more for it.

He stays there, burning and cold, in the bath until his mother bangs on the door, demanding to be let in so she can get ready for bed. He’s dizzy as he wraps another towel around himself and walks past her, mumbling a “goodnight” and a quick apology.

He just about manages to change into a pair of sweats and an old, worn-in t-shirt, which may have started its life as someone else's. His skin is sore and irritated as he struggles to get the duvet back onto his mattress, finding his phone as he does so. He crawls into bed once he’s done, heavy and loose limbed with his phone - screen damaged and all, in his pocket. 

His thoughts are heavy as he looks through the darkness to the chipped nail varnish decorating his hands. A pastel blue, to match his colouring. His fingers had trembled as Mum applied it but he allowed her to do it, just like he’d allowed her to curl his hair and paint his face. He'd been picking it off since, but it's still there. Stubbornly reminding him what he'd allowed to happen to day.

Nagisa was getting to be strong with his wishes. Announcing to Mum what he wanted instead. Reaffirming to her who he is. Korosensei taught him that, had given him enough security to  _ enforce that. _ With his passivity today, he's betrayed himself and Korosensei’s teachings. 

Tears burn his eyes. He tries to squeeze them away. It never seems to work out well for him.  Nagisa doesn’t tend to cry but when he does, he struggles to stop. 

_ Was it enough?  _

_ Was it enough?  _

The question follows him into his nightmares. Where it gets twisted. Distorted. Korosensei is dying at his hands. He’s drenched in yellow. His classmates watch him with disgust. Then, Korosensei reaches out -

Nagisa jolts out of bed and rolls to wretch up what he ate today - the day before? He doesn't have time to rush to the bathroom, doesn't have the chance to brace himself before he hears the splatter of vomit landing on his floor. His stomach twists and turns and jolts as more and more leaves him. It's violent and painful. With each heave, it feels like he's losing a little more of himself. 

Eventually, he's too weak to hold himself up. Nagisa collapses to the floor as chucks of half-digested food are pushed out of him. He shudders through it, rocking with his body as he struggles to get it all up. It seems to slide out of him once he has the right angle, until he has nothing left and his body settles.

The stillness, the quiet, its bliss until his stomach rebels again.

It’s too dark to see how much he’s brought up by the time he’s done, it’s more than he can afford to lose. He can barely move. He landed on the floor wrong when he tumbled out of his bed, onto his arm and it hurts to put weight on it. The muscles in his stomach are pulled tight, too. He tries to move, even just to shift away from the vomit but it  _ hurts _ and he’s  _ tired  _ and he just wants this  _ to be over.  _

_ Why does everything keep hurting? _

A sob bubbles up his throat. Breath burning from the bile. It almost makes him vomit all over again.  Nagisa’s lungs are burning, rattling inside him as he begins to cry. He’s practically choking on dry land. Blindly, he reaches to clutch at his chest as he shakes and shivers. Against his palm, his heartbeat is out of control. Wavelength gone haywire. 

He almost has a heart attack when his pocket lights up. His ringtone is thankfully absent but the vibrations are just as chaotic as his own. It’s so close but he doesn’t have the strength to pull it out of his pocket. It stops soon enough and that’s almost a kindness as he dies on too much air.

_ ‘Nagisa-kun?’ _

He jumps at her voice. ‘R-Rit-su?’ he doesn’t sound like himself. His mind whirls. Had Ritsu forced the call through? How was she so loud? Speaker phone? Did it even matter? Was he dying? Did he want to be? 

_ ‘Nagisa-kun, you’re having a panic attack. I’m - have you had one before? Do you know what to do?’  _ Ritsu asks, only slightly muffled but still not winning over the sound of his heart, of his wavelength, of this  _ consuming panic. _

‘R-Ritsu?’ 

Ritsu swallows. _ ‘Yes. It’s me. We need to try and -’ _

‘What’re you - you -’

_ ‘I’m sorry, Nagisa-kun, we’ve been very worried about you. I - we can talk about this later, if you’d like, but we need to focus on getting your breathing -’ _

‘Are you  _ spying  _ on me?’ This seems important, is it? He can’t tell. Things are hard to focus on between one frantic breath and the next. Between one suffocating and the next. Nothing seems to stop. Staring at a puddle of stomach acid and food he doesn't remember eating, he wonders if this is all he is now. This moment, drying into floor, with the sick drying into his hair and the tears melting him. 

The answer is immediate _ . ‘No. No! I won’t go against your privacy. I just monitor all your smart watches. That’s how I know. That’s how I - I keep track. I promise. If it was anything more, I’d  _ ask _ . Always’  _

The watches. Korosensei had gotten them for the entire class, synced them to their phones before they could blink and then ensured they didn’t remove them with some old fashioned blackmail. Was that -

‘Promise?’ 

_ ‘I promise,  _ I  promise _ , Nagisa-kun, but your heart rate -’ _

Nagisa tries to take in a bigger breath and fails terribly. Gags around a sob instead. ‘I - I d-don’t know - how to - how to fix. It.’

_ ‘Can I help you? I can help you.’  _

‘I -’

_ ‘Nagisa-kun, if you lose consciousness, It’s written into my protocols to call the authorities or the nearest adult that can aid you -’ _

‘N-no.  _ No.’  _

_ ‘Then I - I need your consent. Allow me to help, Nagisa-kun. I want to help you.’  _

Nagisa can feel how sticky he’s becoming. How sweaty. It adds a whole other layer of discomfort. To his distress as it mounts to higher levels. ‘O-okay.’ 

_ ‘Okay,’ _ Ritsu repeats, sounding so  _ relieved.  _

It feels like it takes hours to get his breathing under control, for the crying to fade to manageable tears and his his wavelength to settle into something that remembers less of a heart attack. Once it’s over, Nagisa is exhausted. strung out. Destroyed, and left with the remnants of panic and filled with shame inside a body that feels like it doesn’t belong to him. 

_ ‘Nagisa-kun,’  _ Ritsu eventually speaks, tone still soft from what it morphed into when she began talking him down from an edge he hadn't realised he had stood up on, _ ‘I feel...like I must admit to - worrying over the worsening of your mental health. Are you sure I cannot encourage you to see a professional?’  _

_ No,  _ Nagisa thinks but stays silent. Voice lost to him. He feels tears slide down his damp face. 

_ ‘...I know that this is none of my business. I know that you may not want a - an AI to...lecture you on this precise topic, however I have extensively researched this and understand that seeking a doctor will help.’  _

Nagisa feels his chest expanding, long and large. It hurts. 

_ ‘We'll - I'll try talking with you about it another time.Your readings are telling me that you’ll fall asleep soon. Please. Think about it more, Nagisa-kun. None of us from Class-E want our friend to…’  _

Nagisa smells the acidic mess of his vomit. Tastes it in his mouth. 

_ ‘...I’ll leave you to sleep, Nagisa-kun. Goodnight.’  _

‘...Ritsu?’ Nagisa whispers. He doesn’t have it in him to speak any louder. 

_ ‘Y-yes?’  _

_ Was it enough? _

‘You’re enough. You’re Class-E. Talk about whatever you want.’ 

_ ‘N-Nagisa-kun,’ _ Ritsu says, sounding touched and heartbroken all at one. 

Nagisa closes his eyes. ‘Goodnight, Ritsu.’ 

_ ‘...get some rest, Nagisa-kun.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I don't have much to say after this chapter. Writing it took a lot out of me. Even having severe depression and anxiety myself, I haven't experienced many panic attacks. But I thought I was dying every time. Felt like I'd imagine a heart attack does. It's awful and frightening. And - yeah. Nagisa gets some TLC in the next chapter, I promise. I'm sorry if this was distressing or I didn't do a good job at conveying what I needed to.

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously different and more graphic to how the show presents Korosensei's death. It's been so long since I watched the anime that I only realised when I went to checked something how - happy it is? I understand, in a way that Korosensei's death is meant to be symbolic of the kids growing up and stuff. But shit. Nagisa just killed someone he respected and cared about. I dunno it felt weird when I rewatched it. Eh. My perception of that ending has really changed since I first watched it. I don't know whether I like it haha.
> 
> My brain's not really firing at full capacity so you'll have to forgive me. Tell me if there's a tag I've missed or something.


End file.
